A nameless jester adorns my heart
Like the dancing rays at day’s start
Minding his ways yet indulging in mine
Talking and yet never saying a line.
Warm like a friend, cold like a foe
Countless questions; answers that never show
Hidden in thoughts as if lost in a mine
And yet like gold somewhere the shine.
Playing peek-a-boo like sun and the cloud
And yet no name to call out aloud
Wonder where the routes shall meet
Like the winding roads with surprises greet.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Beyond...
To think beyond thoughts
To wait beyond time,
To talk beyond words
And let the days sublime.
To feel beyond emotions
Holding on to 'That is mine',
Walking into a casino
Gambling a dollar for a dime.
To earn beyond money
To worship beyond shrine,
To learn beyond knowledge
Talk beyond reason or rhyme.
To be sane beyond insanity
Synchronous beyond align,
What would I call this?
If not anything,A life that is mine!
To wait beyond time,
To talk beyond words
And let the days sublime.
To feel beyond emotions
Holding on to 'That is mine',
Walking into a casino
Gambling a dollar for a dime.
To earn beyond money
To worship beyond shrine,
To learn beyond knowledge
Talk beyond reason or rhyme.
To be sane beyond insanity
Synchronous beyond align,
What would I call this?
If not anything,A life that is mine!
Monday, September 11, 2006
Wonder if you agree?
Do I call it sophistication or craziness when a train not just arrives on the dot but is adjusted moving back and forth at the platform such that the doors open only in pre-assigned areas! By the way, I forgot to tell you, I am talking about one of the most organized countries in the world ‘Uncle Sam’s land’ better known, USA. Schedule is a rhythm hardly avoided. Organized, strict, punctual, or in my opinion its monotonous.
I am a totally spontaneous, driven more by instincts and impulsiveness, ‘late to bed and late to rise and yet healthy, wealthy and wise’ doctrine person. And these days I am almost surprised at myself:
Wake up at the harsh screech of a cell phone alarm at 6.00 am, get ready by 7, catch the 7.10 BART, office by 8.15 armed with a Star Bucks Cappuccino to fight the drooping eyelids. Stare into the bright eyes of your technology driven better half, the laptop. Lunch by 12.30, meetings, write reports, test the cases, and update status to all but yourself. Occasionally replenishing the dehydration with gallons of caffeine charged liquids ignoring the constraints and alarm triggers of health. Call it a day by 6, retard back to the niche by 7, enjoying an intermittent nap in the BART on the way back. Sneak in to board on the first available treadmill in the gym, rush back to satisfy the growling stomach by 9.30 and crash by 11 after scanning through and deleting hundreds of unread spam infesting the cyber space. And trriiiiiiiin…. it’s a new day!!
It’s beyond words to describe the mere loss of the good old days with absolute joy of doing nothing. Sleeping after sunrise and waking up with the noon sun. Living like frog in the well, unheard of commitments of the outside world and strictly living by somebody’s quote " A variety of nothing is better than the monotony of something". Exploring every new restaurant, movie or games. Living beyond fantasy, stepping across lines, dancing with the stars in the warmth of the cool moonlight.
And now all this has been reduced and so ironically capsuled into a two-day weekend program amidst the chores of laundry and cooking. No wonder people wait for Friday and have restaurants named after it.
This scheduled, organized, real-time week has infested my beautiful lazy ways of life and dragged me into the corporate black and white structure of outlooks and organizers. It has switched my featureless fancy phones to high profile PDAs with all possible mechanisms of ‘fun arrest’. And well, if I do not tow the ‘busy week’ line who would pay me for all my fancy dreams of a perfect weekend? Damn, I am already arrested by this cult called Work. All right, I need to stop complaining here and get back to meeting scheduled in 10 minutes. And dare tell my boss about my being lazy or calling this life monotonous! Pleeeease :).
I am a totally spontaneous, driven more by instincts and impulsiveness, ‘late to bed and late to rise and yet healthy, wealthy and wise’ doctrine person. And these days I am almost surprised at myself:
Wake up at the harsh screech of a cell phone alarm at 6.00 am, get ready by 7, catch the 7.10 BART, office by 8.15 armed with a Star Bucks Cappuccino to fight the drooping eyelids. Stare into the bright eyes of your technology driven better half, the laptop. Lunch by 12.30, meetings, write reports, test the cases, and update status to all but yourself. Occasionally replenishing the dehydration with gallons of caffeine charged liquids ignoring the constraints and alarm triggers of health. Call it a day by 6, retard back to the niche by 7, enjoying an intermittent nap in the BART on the way back. Sneak in to board on the first available treadmill in the gym, rush back to satisfy the growling stomach by 9.30 and crash by 11 after scanning through and deleting hundreds of unread spam infesting the cyber space. And trriiiiiiiin…. it’s a new day!!
It’s beyond words to describe the mere loss of the good old days with absolute joy of doing nothing. Sleeping after sunrise and waking up with the noon sun. Living like frog in the well, unheard of commitments of the outside world and strictly living by somebody’s quote " A variety of nothing is better than the monotony of something". Exploring every new restaurant, movie or games. Living beyond fantasy, stepping across lines, dancing with the stars in the warmth of the cool moonlight.
And now all this has been reduced and so ironically capsuled into a two-day weekend program amidst the chores of laundry and cooking. No wonder people wait for Friday and have restaurants named after it.
This scheduled, organized, real-time week has infested my beautiful lazy ways of life and dragged me into the corporate black and white structure of outlooks and organizers. It has switched my featureless fancy phones to high profile PDAs with all possible mechanisms of ‘fun arrest’. And well, if I do not tow the ‘busy week’ line who would pay me for all my fancy dreams of a perfect weekend? Damn, I am already arrested by this cult called Work. All right, I need to stop complaining here and get back to meeting scheduled in 10 minutes. And dare tell my boss about my being lazy or calling this life monotonous! Pleeeease :).
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